CDC , A one Shot
by Lyria Arras
Summary: The group just entered the CDC and are eating and drinking together. Daryl/Oc (reviews are welcomed of course . But please, keep it nice)


Daryl felt the satisfying burn of the Southern Comfort whiskey in his throat. The warmth of the CDC and the people around him , made him feel safe. Something he hadn't felt in, what he thought, ages. He grinned to himself when he saw Glenn making his way to his room. Or trying to. The boy was drunk and Daryl smiled to himself. He had a drink-off with the Korean just 15 minutes ago and he had won. Obviously, Glenn couldn't hold his liquor and only for a second, Daryl hoped the boy's hangover wouldn't be too bad. He just stared a bit to the others , sitting around the table. Carl and Sophia sleeping in the arms of their moms, T-Dog and Dale in conversation and Shane and Lori eye-fucking each other. He took another gulp of the Whiskey and scanned the other side of the room. Seeing her…Leaning against the wall with a glass of red wine in her hand. As far as he could tell, she was staring at the others too. Until she cocked her head a bit and locked eyes with him. Green eyes meeting blue ones. She smiled and he nodded towards her, raising his bottle as a greeting. That woman made him confused. Never was she rude towards him, she even offered him a smile sometimes and didn't meddle with the group. One time she even offered to go hunting with him. So he wouldn't be alone and have someone watching his back. He refused, of course. He wasn't a team player. Daryl would never be one. It wasn't in his genes. The Dixon redneck gene pool he was so blessed with.  
He went to sit up straight when he saw her walking towards him.  
"You seem flushed, Dixon," she said in a playful tone, making Daryl his stomach turn. "Is it the Whiskey?"  
He just nodded and she kneeled before him, offering him her now empty glass.  
"Are you willing to share?"  
Daryl didn't answer but reached for her glass and bowed towards her. The flush on her cheeks betraying the amounts of red wine she had before, also her lips had this red glow only red wine could bring. For a moment he noticed the tiny freckles on her nose and he grinned.  
"I think you had enough alcohol," he answered, "You wouldn't want to mix wine with whiskey."  
He knew his voice was ruder than he meant to sound, he saw her flinch for only a second before she grinned again.  
"True, and I haven't even had a drink in ages so I should stop," she spoke softly before standing up. "I'm going to find my room and pass out," making Daryl grin again. Her voice sounded hoarse and he could clearly see that she was tired. Black lines under her eyes and her face pale.  
"I'll help ya found ya room," he offered and mentally smacked himself for it. This wasn't the plan. He didn't do things like this. But when she looked down at him, he was a bit glad he did offer. The surprise written in her soft features and for a moment he though she was going to refuse. But she didn't.  
"I would appreciate that. I have a lousy sense of orientation."  
He stood up, stretching his legs and started walking towards the hallway. Daryl felt her presence right behind him. He coughed.  
"What number is ya room," he whispered, afraid to wake up others who already went to bed. Daryl looked over his shoulder and noticed she stood still.  
"Number 3, I think. Or 4," she hesitated, "I can't really remember. It's one of those at the back."  
Daryl turned towards her.  
"You're in 3," he stated making her frown, "I'm in 4," he explained. She held out her hand towards him all of a sudden and he took a step back. A reaction he had learned since he was a child. Hurt crossed her face and Daryl swallowed nervous when he realized she was reaching for the bottle of Southern Comfort in his hand.  
"I'm sorry," Daryl mumbled before giving her the bottle. She shook her head, a gently gesture with her hand made him sure she understood and that she wasn't angry. Her brown hair danced around her face and she took a large gulp of the whiskey. Daryl grabbed all the courage he had inside his body and took two steps closer. Making her green eyes look up at him. She was beautiful, he thought. The way her brown hair reached her hips, the green eyes and the freckles. The English Accent in her speaking and the funny thing she did when she tried to speak like she was from the South. And the way she bit her lip, the way she was doing it right now. He didn't have time to react when she reached from him. Her lips softly brushed his , making Daryl freeze. He didn't react…not immediately. But when she pulled back, he lost her warmth of her body. And he gently pulled her towards him again. His hand on her lower back and he kissed her. He felt her smile against his lips, making his heart beat faster. Daryl shivered. He didn't have a lot of experience kissing women, or anything for that matter. Thinking that, he let go of her. Daryl took a step back and looked at her. He rubbed his eyes and his hair before turning around.  
"Your room is there," he said, his voice harsh before leaving her in the hallway. He needed to get out of there, away from her. This wasn't supposed to happen. No love for Daryl Dixon. Not now. Not during the fucking Apocalypse. He already lost his brother. And in the past his mother. He took another swig from the Whiskey before entering the kitchen again.


End file.
